Friday, September 25, 2009
Never Marry a Mountain
The mountain, she gets a little jealous sometimes. Just a little warning.
Last Thursday Fat Cat was joined by Birdman and Goldfish and Brahma Mamma. It was just another day in cycling paradise. What more can I say that already hasn’t been said about the weather this year?
Everybody took off up the Pike together and there were tubes a plenty in case Goldfish continued with his tire woes. The CDC is looking into this, but it is a pretty sure bet that Goldfish caught the tirephoid fever from The Fat Cat on a grimp earlier in the year. Witness the two bikes in close contact, open wounds exposed.
The Grimpeurs made a leisurely summit and decided to go right, towards the Bruceton, Lake-o-the-Woods loop. This little decision would soon have unintended consequences (I hate those) for two Grimpeurs.
The first victim of the right turn was Phallose. Actually, he was first a victim of his own hazy mind. Despite several warnings and a personal e-mail, his brain developed a little hiccup that refused to see 11:00 in its true form. It, instead, insisted on 11:30. The Fat Cat suspected this to be the case, but the no one left behind rule only extends to those actually in the parking lot. Still, the group waited until about 15 after to depart. It was agreed that Phallose would see our cars and race up the mountain to make the catch with ease. However, he says he was feeling the weight of the world, not to mention his gut, and was not as fast as usual. Nevertheless, who would have thought that, offered the chance between the left and the right, he would take the left—inconceivable! (Movie reference alert.)
The second victim was none other than Brahma Mamma. There is nothing like the flush of new love…it’s the same for the mountain as for any young lovers. When the two first connect, even the thought of someone else can beget irrational rage. Before you know it, someone lashes out— Call it topographic abuse. The Laurels could sense it, the betrayal to come. Soon Brahma would be cavorting with statuesque Italian beauties with names like Stelvio, Bormio, Ghisalla and Gavia. Poor Mud Pike, poor Wymp’s, how could they compete. It was inevitable really, that Wymp’s gap would hand out a little bitch slap on that last hairpin. Brahma found herself sliding on some pea gravel and off the apex. No real harm done though, just a scratch or two. Brahma took it in stride, nary a whimper. I think she and the mountain will make up just fine when she gets back from her fling. You could see the spark when they met and it’s sure those exotic peaks are no match for our homespun beauties.
Anyway, that brings us to the end of this rambling post. Good luck to Brahma, Birdman and Legs, who are representing the Grimpeurs at The Worlds in Mendrisio. They are authorized to act as patrons of the order and as such can confer battlefield ordinations in foreign theaters of operation as well as bestow appropriate noms de velo.
Al Gore's world wide interweb denied me timely access so the above piece is now old news. There was a brand new grimp yesterday. It was a hard one. Phallose and Lord MonkeyButt showed up for a romp through Preston county. It was hot and humid and the climbing never stopped. I don't know what kind of masochistic fool was leading that ride, but he deserves a stern reprimand from a tall and shapely German girl. The Fat Cat was trying to keep up with Phallose over the hill from the bike path to Greenbag and then over to the bottom of hill from Aaron's Creek to Summer School. MonkeyButt was off the back but would soon have his revenge. After 1 mile of climbing The Fat Cat was feeling light headed and had the cold sweats. By the time he got up to Nicholson Loop, far in arrears of all, He was literally screaming, DAMMIT, I FEEL LIKE SHIT. If nothing else, it was a serious workout. The group was able to muster a little collective pace once the calvalcade of climbs was all but over and Phallose and Fat Cat raced down Snake Hill. I big shout out goes to the bee that flew down Phalose's shirt. Kudos to MonkeyButt for climbing well.
The Fat Cat Graciously supplied some post ride recovery lager while his mother pushed home-made soup. I think everyone was feeling that ride, even Phallose- just a little bit.